A Blue Flame Inside the Ice
by Hikage
Summary: One man, hoping to find a Truth to believe in. Another, wanting to find his inner peace. What will happen when they find eachother? Aoshi x Soujiro.


A/N: Here it is, folks! It had to happen sooner or later. I absolutely adore the Aoshi/Sou pairing. I revel in it. I worship it. I wish dearly that Soujiro could have seen the light right then and walked off with Aoshi. But ah well, that's what fanfiction is for, ne? My first Aoshi/Sou fic...ah, let's see how this turns out! I'm thinking of making this a multi-part, but that depends on if I get reviews or not. Review, please? Flames are not welcome, but constructive criticism is. And no rants about how you hate yaoi and whatnot.  
  
NOTE: THIS IS YAOI!! YAOI!! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT!! And also, in case anyone cared/was wondering, the title of this fanfic has vaguely to do with Soujiro's theme song, Innocence. Specifically, the line that goes: "The blue flame now silently burns inside the ice".  
  
Again, muchas gracias to Oniwabanshuu, for being a supportive and helpful beta. You're the greatest! I really got the inspiration to do a fanfic involving Aoshi because of her Aoshi/Misao fanfiction (which you should go read, it'll make you happy). Arigatou gozaimasu!

  
  
A Blue Flame Inside the Ice  
  
chapter one :: burning silently

_"Stupid brat!"  
  
"What the hell are you grinning about?!!"  
  
"He's always got that creepy little smile on his face. We had to adopt him for the sake of appearances, but he's not all there."  
  
"You can't even do a simple job right!"  
  
"Are you happy to die, boy?"  
  
"In this world, the flesh of the weak is food for the strong. No matter how hard you smile, you can't run from the truth."  
  
"I've had enough of this little bastard! I'll kill him for this!"_ Soujiro's eyes snapped open, the feeling of cold chills spreading throughout his spine. The night's humidity and warmth flooded him like a thick blanket, but he still felt unusually frigid. The stars hung above him and twinkled gently: the brightness of which pained his eyes, urging him to place his hands over his face.  
  
He felt Shishio-san's words brush over him, with the lilting wind: _"The flesh of the weak is the food of the strong."_ Soujiro opened his eyes, and rolled over to his side, taking notice of what seemed like a small ant on a blade of grass beside him. It was miniscule, and when it approached the tip of the blade, it seemed to look like it would fall over. Soujiro reached out his fingertip and intercepted the small insect, watching carefully as it clamoured frantically on his cold skin.  
  
How long had it been now? He had given up everything. He had no money. He had no home. No family. Nobody. He was just...alone. He was never one who liked change; he preferred to keep everything the way it was.  
  
And then, Himura came and turned everything upside-down. It was almost unfair.  
  
Three months.  
  
Three whole months now.  
  
Alone, he lay under the stars, with a scrap of cloth for a blanket, and nothing but the lingering voice of Shishio-san at the back of his head to keep him company. He could still remember- _"The strong live, and the weak die."_ The eighteen-year-old felt a stinging sensation behind his eyes. He couldn't explain it. But he knew he had felt it before. It seemed to overcome him, somehow...  
  
He felt a tiny moment of struggle from the insect on his finger, right before he pressed his thumb against it... 

_"The strong live--"_

In half a second, it was gone. Nothing more than a bit of mulch between his fingers. It was...dead.  
  
"And the weak die." Soujiro murmered. It was the undeniable Truth at that time. But now, it was gone. The Truth had just vanished before his eyes, in a whisper of smoke, and a flash of steel. It had just gone...like the ant that he once held on his finger. He was suddenly aware of some liquid sliding down his face. Was it...blood? Rain?  
  
He heard the echo of Shishio-san's memory: _"Are you crying?"  
_  
The boy touched his cheeks and found them to be wet. 

_"Are you crying?"_  
  
Soujiro lay still for a very long time, his mind wavering. After a while, he spoke. "Hai." His voice broke the silence around him, the words floating upward, into the stars. "Hai, Shishio-san. I am crying."

---

Seta Soujiro was never really a morning person. Yes, he would get up as early as necessary, as early as he was instructed, but he much preferred to lay on a futon (or grass, as was the case at the time), gazing at things beside and above him with a half-lidded eye until the sun was well into the sky.  
  
Today was one such day. It was about mid-afternoon til the boy decided to get off of the ground and pack up his things, heading for the nearest town. In a way, it's good to be a rurouni, Soujiro thought to himself, optimistically, there's nobody to wake me up early in the morning. 

Nobody at all. His smile fading a little, he walked for a few hours until he approached a small village. Where exactly he was, he had no idea. His smile brightening, he walked through the small patch-roofed houses and the people hard at work. He was aware of a few stares that he had recieved, but most blew over as he passed. However, in his quest to find a place to eat and sleep, he had a nagging feeling that his every move was being watched.  
  
He hated that feeling. It was like an itch on his back that he couldn't reach. He kept walking, but the feeling was still there.  
  
Giving off the smallest of sighs, the immediate thought that came to his mind was that he was being followed by the police. Which made sense, except for the fact that they hadn't arrested him yet. They knew he was a criminal. He was weaponless, and had nothing to claim his own. Why did they want to observe him?  
  
Keeping up his guard, Soujiro found a small restaurant, and, emptying out the some of his progressively dwindling money, he walked into the small building. Taking a seat, he waited until a waitress attended to him, which didn't really talke long, considering the paucity of people in the village and the size of the small restaurant itself.  
  
The boy ordered what food he could without overspending his money with too much food or starving himself with too little. Just enough to keep him alive. When the young woman had left to tend to his order, he leant back a little looking around the restaurant, looking for surrounding persons who seemed look like they had an ulterior motive for being in such a small village. He didn't have to look long. A few moments after his food had been delivered to him, a man walked into the small edifice, and Soujiro recognized him immediately.  
  
His hair was dark, as were his eyes, and he wore a long coat that covered the back of his tall frame. He carried a manner of solemnity and stoicness, of majesty, almost. He turned to Soujiro with a calm and clear eye, no obvious expression on his face. His ocean-colored eyes paralyzed the boy instantaneously.  
  
"Seta Soujiro." He stated; his voice was clear and deep. He did not bow. He stood, his feet planted to the ground like a tall and sturdy sakura tree, observing the younger man.  
  
Soujiro clamored to his feet, taken aback in surprise. Quickly, he pulled his hands up to his chest and bowed deeply.  
  
"Shinomori Aoshi-san!" He chirped, his voice brimming with false happiness. "What a pleasant surprise!"


End file.
